The Final Countdown, page 18
“Does God help them, whoever they are, when you’re through with them?*
Her laughter was like the tinkle of ice in a glass. “I never stayed around long enough to ask. Are you ready for my debut? Your tailor is a master, by the way. I’ve never felt a material like this before. What is it?”
“Something we’re testing at sea,” he said to sidestep the issue of synthetics that didn’t exist in 1941.
“It’s wonderful. All right, Dick, ready or not …” She stepped out from behind the screen and he was almost breathless with the sight of her. Her hair flowed in shimmering gold well below her shoulders. She wore no makeup and didn’t need any. And that jumpsuit … “My God, it looks like he measured that thing to fit you like a hand in a glove.” He had no idea of that full and straining bosom. “You, Laurel Scott, are absolutely a knockout*
She studied the genuine admiration on his face. “Thank you, Commander. I am flattered.”
“I also had a thought”
“Which is?”
“Maybe it should be a question, Laurel. Like, God help the senator?”
She laughed and started to reply, holding her words when they heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called. A marine orderly stepped inside and snapped to attention. Commander, the captain requests you and Miss Scott to join him in his inport cabin.”
“Please inform the captain we’ll be right there.” Owens wanted to laugh as they walked along the corridor. Crewmen stared in disbelief and did everything but drool at the sight of the stunning young woman in the tight-fitting jumpsuit.
“To pick up where we left it before, Dick,” she said as they walked, “Sam Chapman is going to be not just a very important man in this country, but one of the most important men. 1 realize that being out to sea as much as you are may make such things seem unimportant, but they’re not.”
“Then I’ll have to take your word for it,” he said.
“Would you really do that?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t —?” he asked, puzzled.
“Men rarely listen to what a woman has to say,” she said matter-of-factly.
He had to force himself to think in her time-frame and not his own. “Whether it sounds real or not, Laurel, I’m listening, and what’s more I’m learning.”
“Then you’re a rare breed.” She smiled. “I keep to a goal, and that’s to be where the decisions are made. That’s the top of the heap as far as I’m concerned. And what I’m trying to say without seeming like too much of a dragon, teat is, is that I’ve learned that the only way upstairs is by brainpower instead of shape.”
“You, I will quickly admit, lack nothing in either department”
She slipped her hand through his arm. “You, Commander, are a charmer.”
Sam Chapman was in an intense conversation with Captain Matthew Yelland and several of his staff when they entered the inport cabin. They smiled in recognition and appreciation at the sight of Laurel Scott in her new jumpsuit “Miss Scott,” Yelland smiled, “I’m glad we were able to bring you safely back into our midst You’re a beautiful woman.”
“And you, sir, are very gallant Thank you,” she said graciously.
“May I add you’ve acted as if you had the strength of ten men, Miss Scott,” Yelland added. “It is a rare trait”
“Is that meant as a compliment to a woman, Captain?”
“It is a compliment to you, Miss Scott.”
“Captain, your crew is fabulous. I feel as if this is the first time I’ve been with a group of men who appredate someone for what that person is, and sex doesn’t matter.”
“You might say we’re just a bit ahead of our time,” Yelland said with, a smile—causing Warren Lasky almost to choke.
Chapman broke in. “My apologies for going right to business, Laurel, but the word time is extremely relevant here,” he said by way of explanation. “I’m still not sure I know what the devil is happening in terms of a Japanese battle fleet, but there’s no doubt in my mind that the Hawaiian Islands are in grave danger, and there’s no time to waste. I’ve asked Captain Yelland to fly us as quickly as possible, directly to Pearl Harbor. I won’t get the crap on the ground I had from that idiot on the radio.” He turned from Laurel back to Yelland. “Captain, I really must persist, and I ask your every assistance.”
“You have it, sir,” Yelland replied. “Mister Owens.”
“Sir?”
“A helo is being raised to the flight deck right now and the crew is standing by. You will escort the senator and Miss Scott to the flight area, make certain they are equipped with everything they need, and waste no time in flying them to navy headquarters at Pearl. Any questions?”
“No, sir.”
Laurel gestured, concern on her face. “I know this seems a small matter, captain, but—well, it’s my dog Charlie. He’s still on board somewhere.”
“Laurel! Forget the goddamned dog!” Chapman shouted. “We’re talking about a war!”
Lasky slipped smoothly into the breach. “Miss Scott, we’ll take care of him and we’ll get him back to you. You have my personal promise.” He smiled. “And that of the war department, too.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lasky.” She squeezed his hand.
“Laurel, damnit, let’s go.”
Chapman nearly dragged her from the cabin. A moment later Dick Owens reappeared and went directly to Yelland. “They’re being taken to the chopper, sir. I’ll catch them without wasting any time. But I had to talk to you for a moment”
“Go ahead.”
“Sir, anything that man tells the authorities at Pearl Harbor is just going to add to all the confusion already stirred up.”
“It won’t matter very much then, will it?” Yelland said with a trace of a smile.
“May I make a point, Commander?” They glanced at Lasky. “There’s not much they can do at Pearl, even if they believed his story. You know what happened. We fired on Japanese submarines hours before the planes left their carriers, and no one reported it to headquarters. Joe Lockard, that army technician, even tracked the Japanese planes coming in on his radar, and he was ordered to ignore what he saw. Even before Pearl itself was hit, Japanese fighters planes were shooting up aircraft from the carrier Enterprise—and shot down a bunch of them. You’re the historian among us, and certainly you remember that those planes from Enterprise never fired a single shot in their defense. Time has an ally we should have recognized before, Owens.”
“He’s right,” Yelland said. “It’s name is inertia.”
Owens looked doubtful. “Yes, sir,” he said noncommittally.
“Listen to me, Dick,” Yelland said, his face serious. “You do not fly them to Pearl I would have told you this by radio, but it’s better right here and now. There are several small islands off the main shoreline, west of Pearl. You remember them?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve flown over them many times.”
“Then you’ll have just enough time to deposit the senator and that woman on one of those islands. Find one that’s deserted. Leave them provisions, and get the hell out of there. Time has become an enemy. What time did the Japanese planes leave their carriers?”
“Oh six hundred, sir.”
“Then you’d better shag ass, Commander. Just drop them off and get back here, pronto.”
“Matt, you just can’t dump them like that!” Lasky protested.
“Oh?” Yelland’s brows went up. “You have only seconds to tell me why.”
“Damnit, it would be a terrible mistake, that’s why. Senator Sam Chapman was killed on December 7th, 1941—and it will be December 7th, right past midnight, very soon now. If he had lived, then he almost certainly would have become president in 1945 when Roosevelt died. Now, with what you’re doing, he will be killed. You’re putting him on an island but he’s still in the bullseye. We need him with us today—not dead somewhere.”
Yelland eyed the other man thoughtfully. “I’ll keep this short. My job is to make decisions here, and right now, not with an eye to what some senator might be in the White House years from now. This ship is about to engage in all-out battle and I do not want those two civilians aboard.” He turned to Owens. “Move it, Commander.”
“Captain, Owens will support what I’m saying,” Lasky said desperately.
Yelland was ice. “Commander Owens will carry out his orders, Mister Lasky. Commander, do not say another word. Get the devil out to that chopper. Be back aboard this vessel at oh five hundred. I want my best man leading that strike force.”
Owens took off at a run, and Lasky fixed his gaze on Yelland. “You said two civilians, Captain. You were wrong. Make it three”
Yelland began an angry rebuke, thought better of his words. “Warren, you’ll learn that there always comes that time when all the rationalizations in the world aren’t worth one ounce of action. You’re standing on that moment right now. You are free to go with the senator, but I advise you to move your tail to that flight deck as fast as you can run—or you’ll see them leaving without you. And, Warren, whatever—and whenever—good luck.”
Lasky ran after Owens.
He reached the helicopter on the windy deck as they were about to slide the cabin hatch closed. The chopper was ready to lift as Lasky ran up to the door, shouting. The door slid open and Owens stared down at Lasky.
“What the hell are you doing here, mister?” he shouted above the wind and thunder of engines.
“I've the captain’s permission to go with you!” Beyond Owens’s form, Lasky saw Laurel staring at him, questioning.
“To the devil with permissions! You’re not coming aboard this aircraft!” Owens started to dose the door.
“You can’t do this, damnit! It’s vital I go with you!”
The door stopped. “Lasky, just what will you fay to do when we get there?”
“No one else will know how it all ties together, for God’s sake. I’ll be the only one who knows both ends of the tunnel! I want to be certain we get everything just right!”
Owens smiled coldly. “That’s just the trouble, Lasky. Anyone who works to have everything set up for time to follow is more dangerous than an atomic bomb!” The door slammed shut in Lasky's face. Furious, and as helpless as he was angry, Lasky stepped back quickly as the helicopter went to full power, crashing wind and thunder back down upon him. Then it was gone. Lasky watched the lights flashing as the chopper dwindled into the darkness. He started back for the bridge.
“Where’s Captain Yelland?” Lasky asked.
Commander Damon had the bridge. “He’s in COMM. He’s preparing to talk to the crew. You can just make it before he starts if you hurry.”
Lasky entered the television room with a minute to spare. Yelland looked at him with surprise. “Warren, you pop up everywhere. I thought I’d never see you again. How come you’re not on that chopper with the senator?”
Lasky shrugged. “You know how it is, Matt Birds of a feather, I guess. Besides, I thought you might get lonely. Who are you going to get to talk to about warps in time and space?”
Yelland smiled. “I’ll take that up with you as soon as I talk to my men. Have you seen Black Cloud?” Lasky sensed something serious. “No, sir, I haven’t Has anything unusual come up?”
“You’re damned right it has. Hard to tell what it is, but that smudge that drove our weather people crazy, just before the storm that slung us back here, seems to be showing up on the radar scopes.”
Lasky’s jaw dropped. “That could mean—”
A sharp gesture cut him short “Not now,” Yelland said quietly, but with a cutting edge to his words. Lasky nodded.
“Sir, we’re ready,” a technician told the captain. Yelland looked into the camera of the closed-circuit television system. Where there were no monitors aboard Nimitz his crew would hear his voice from speakers. A hand pointed to Yelland and a red light flashed on the camera.
“This is your captain. During the last few hours I know many of you have been confused and perhaps even frightened by the strange events in which this vessel has been involved. You have heard rumors of all kinds and I want to dismiss the rumors and fee scuttlebutt Nothing could approach the truth of the matter. You all remember, some of you painfully, that storm through which we passed less than eighteen hours ago. No one aboard this ships knows exactly what that storm was, where it came from, or how it started. What we do know is that it had an effect upon us all that can’t even be described as incredible.
“You may have heard of twists or warns that affect both space and time. Apparently such effects are real in the universe. The amazing truth is that eighteen hours ago we were in 1980. Right now the world in which we are sailing is the world of nearly forty years ago. The date is the sixth of December 1941. At twenty-four hundred hours it will be the seventh of December, and you all know what that means. In the history books, Pearl Harbor was attacked on the morning of Sunday, the seventh of December. We’re now back in history.
“I have made my decision that no matter what has happened to us, no matter what we understand or do not yet understand, we are first and last a fighting ship of the line of the United States Navy. Our sworn duty is to defend the United States. I intend, with the help of every one of you, to do just that Understand what this means. We are about to fight a battle that was fought long before many of you were even bom. We know what happened when Pearl Harbor was bombed. I do not know by what intervention we have been given this chance to prevent that terrible slaughter, but I assure -you, this time it is going to have a different ending. Nimitz is going to take on the entire battle fleet now preparing to attack and destroy Pearl Harbor. We are going to take them on and we are going to whip those people so badly the war may never really have a chance to get started. Let’s keep the theory and the philosophy for later. Right now we go by the book, all of us. Gentlemen, Nimitz is now at General Quarters.”
Yelland nodded to the TV crew and the red light winked out. Lasky was nearly overwhelmed. Yelland had cut the mustard in such a way he had a hyped-up fighting team on his hands that already was itching to tear the Nagumo attack force to shreds.
At the same time, Matt Yelland recognized the fears and uncertainties lurking in the minds of so many of his men. This was the moment for the ship’s chaplain,
Commander David Gleason, to speak to the crew. The chaplain was already at another seat before another camera, and his face and voice carried through the carrier. Lasky listened, or half listened. A grizzled chief petty officer stood beside Lasky. He had come in just as Yelland began his talk. They stood in silence as the chaplain invoked God and piety for the benefit of the crew, and the only remark Lasky heard from the veteran by his side was a grumbled “Bullshit”
The chaplain completed his message, turned to look at them. It seemed he’d known the CPO for a long time. “Chief Duncan, you were here for my message?” “Aye, sir.”
“Good, good. I thought the men would .appreciate a word or two of comfort—”
“Meaning no disrespect, Father, but most of them don’t much give a damn. Those who are too young won’t understand and those who are old bastards, like myself, think it’s so much guff.”
Chaplain Gleason’s face hardened. “The war has made you cynical, Chief.”
“Which war, Father? There’ve been so many I’ve lost count. And yet you still prattle on about God being on our side, and you talk nonsense about the sins of war. We’re going to fight, Father, not pray. What the captain had to say made sense. What you had to say just confuses everybody.”
“War never settled anything, Chief.”
“That’s where we differ, sir. I fought through a lot of wars and even though I can’t understand how the hell all this is happening, I fought all the way through the one that’s starting in just a few horns. I was lucky. I was at Pearl Harbor, on the Arizona, in fact, but I left about two weeks before the Japs creamed us there.”
“I’m sorry,” the chaplain said. “It’s just that I once gave a memorial service there. On the Arizona itself, I mean.”
“Tell me, padre,” Chief Duncan said with naked sarcasm. “A whole bunch of my friends are still in that hulk. Twelve hundred men in all. You know what, padre? You ought to fly over that thing. You can still see that long, twisting oil slick. The oil’s been leaking from that hull ever since she went down. Maybe it’ll be leaking for a hundred years more. You’re right, padre. It’s a memorial service that never quits. And just think. If the captain is right, then we can prevent Pearl Harbor and the Arizona and Wake Island and Kwajalein and Tarawa and Okinawa and all the rest of it We could have prevented it the first time, but we didn’t have the balls to do it”
“I’m—I’m not sure I understand,” the chaplain said, hesitating.
“You talk to God. Maybe He can explain it to you. Me? Like the captain says, we go by our book, and I’d follow that man to Hell and back again if he says go. Better get your flak helmet on, padre. It’s likely to get real interesting when daylight comes. And now, sir, excuse me.” He spun on his heel and left
Yelland stood behind the chaplain. A smile played on his face and then vanished. “Mr. Lasky. I have an urgent call from Black Cloud. I want you with me in the weather office now.”
18
“I don’t have much time,” Yelland said to open the conversation in the weather office. “Spell it out fast” Black Cloud glanced at his captain. “Sir, we’re getting the same phenomena we experienced just before that crazy storm Hit us and knocked us back in time. Electrical interference up and down the scale, radio transmissions going in and out, even the first signs of surges from the nuclear reactors.”
“Does it cover the same area?”
“Yes, sir. The outline approximates what we experienced before, as best we can tell on our scopes.”
“Let me see for myself.”
